Pride
by TeamClove
Summary: "What happens if you win? Cato didn't know the answer anymore. Pride, was the answer. Pride. But that didn't matter anymore." A one-shot about Cato and Clove's relationship. Not exactly a romance. Please check it out!


**Disclaimer: Hi! So this is a one-shot fanfic about Clove & Cato's relationship. Not exactly a romance. Taking place in Clove's death and the battle between Peeta, Katniss, and Cato with some flashbacks. It would make more sense to you if you watched the movie because this is based in the movie (since I got pissed off they didn't show them together in it). Enjoy!**

"Cato- Cato!"

Cato's muscles stiffened when he heard her voice. _Is it her? _He thought. _Of course it's her._ Cato could recognize her voice from anywhere, and he knew it. But he was a little surprised, as he thought she wouldn't have any trouble getting the pack. And suddenly, he got up and dashed through the forest, leaving their camp, to the cornucopia.

They had teamed up after the announcement. "Why not?" they both had said. Having two victors was better than having only one. But it was because of another reason. And they both knew what it was.

_Flashback: _They had met each other in the Weaponry Technique Guidance and Mastering Academy back in District 2. The coach, Master Eestra, had assigned them as partners to train together and volunteer for the 74th Hunger Games. Clove was 11 and Cato 13 at the time. At first, they were completely the opposite, as Clove being a determined and a perfectionist knife-thrower, and Cato, the big, sadistic and trouble-maker sword wielder. (but little did they know that that was the point in pairing them as partners so that they would "learn" to sort out problems) And then, as years passed and they grew more personal, they began to _understand _each other. Clove, for instance, had problems with her parents. Since she was small, they didn't think she was as skilled as the other kids in her age. But she was. Even better than the others. But they _pressured _her and Cato hated it. That was probably why she spent most of her free time in the Academy, throwing knives at the dummies' heart, getting more frustrated as she got more perfect. Cato was the only one Clove told this to. And Cato. His brother whom he adored, Critro, had died in the 69th Hunger Games. Nothing had been the same in his family after that. But this only made Cato train _harder _and become more _vicious_. Clove was the only one who knew. He still had his times when his eyes became glassy thinking about him, although rarely. Sometimes, when he had those moments, he would let Clove soothe him, even comb his hair with her hands when he put his head on her lap. They both didn't know what was between them. _Love?_ No, there was no fluff. _Friendship?_ No, it was much more than that. They couldn't figure it out, so they didn't investigate. And years later, when Cato became 16 and Clove became 14, it was their turn to volunteer. So they did.

He almost reached the cornucopia when he saw the girl from 12 run and disappear to the forest with her pack. His eyes searched the grass, and there she was on the ground. Lying unconscious.

"Clove!" His words sounded even more painful than he wanted it to. He swiftly ran to her, his eyes looking for the deadly wound. "What happened? Who did it? Answer, Clove! Just answer!" But Clove didn't. He knew she wasn't dead; she was just too paralyzed to even speak. That's when he noticed the slight blood coming from the back of her head, and he understood what had happened. He looked at the cornucopia's surface and saw the blood. Clove's greenish- grey eyes were focused on Cato's, and he held her hand. He freed her black hair from her high ponytail, and started playing with it. Oh, her hair was so silky. Silky and black as the starless night sky.

The canon boomed.

And, for the first time, Cato cried. It was all a big, stupid lie. They had trained relentlessly for nothing. _What happens if you win?_ Cato didn't know the answer anymore. _Pride, _was the answer_. Pride. _But that didn't matter anymore. So he cried. He cried for Clove, and the monsters they have become.

* * *

><p>They were now standing in the edge of the cornucopia. Katniss, Peeta, and Cato. Cato had Peeta in a headlock, and Katniss held the bow in her hand, unsure to shoot.<p>

"Go on. Shoot." Cato said, his face bloody. "Then we both go down and you win." Katniss didn't know what to do. "Go on. I'm dead anyways. I always was, right? Didn't know that 'till now." He looked side to side, laughing insanely. "How's that, is that what you want? Huh? No. Nah nah nah. I could still do this. I could _still _do this. One… More… Kill…. It's the _only_ thing I knowhow to do. Bring "pride" to my district. Not that it matters."

And suddenly, Katniss shot the arrow at his hand. Cato screamed with pain, and Peeta pushed him. Cato fell from the cornucopia, into the angry mutts' mouths.

It was an awful pain, getting chewed, feeling _every single bite. _But he knew Katniss wasn't going to let him die like this. He knew _she_ had a heart. Unlike him or Clove. Because Katniss wasn't a monster. Because she didn't have the constant need to bring "pride" to anyone. And that was something Cato never understood, and probably would never have. So just as he thought, Katniss shot the arrow at his head. And finally, he stopped _feeling._

He saw Clove; his friend, his _life_ partner, the one who truly understood him; glowing with happiness, smiling, welcoming him.

And for the first time, he felt truly, effortlessly, _happy__._

* * *

><p><strong>What do you think? I myself was almost going to cry when I wrote the last sentences. Please feel free to review, I will be glad!<strong>


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